


Writing on the Wall (of the Train)

by Christineoftheopera



Series: Citizens of Gotham [1]
Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Gotham City - Freeform, Gotham City is Terrible, Gotham Gazette, Not Romance, if you can think of any tags let me know because I don't know what to say, slice of gotham life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:28:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22094116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Christineoftheopera/pseuds/Christineoftheopera
Summary: An underpaid, overworked journalist takes the late train home and meets a certain clown, much to her unjustified surprise.
Relationships: Joker/Original Female Character(s), Joker/You
Series: Citizens of Gotham [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1590319
Comments: 9
Kudos: 43
Collections: Gotham City Stories and Worldbuilding





	Writing on the Wall (of the Train)

The train screeched to a stop almost sending my carefully balanced laptop and papers sprawling across the floor. After flailing for a moment I recovered. I looked around to make sure no one was witness to the elegant show of arm flapping and gasping I had so majestically displayed. Thankfully the car was still completely empty and I don’t have to take out any witnesses… Sorry, bad joke. Besides no one was stupid enough to ride the train at this time of night, it was a notorious place for meeting creeps and weirdos, not to mention the risks associated with Gotham nightlife. I like to use the fact that most passengers thought that I might be the creep and if that didn't work I always had pepper spray. Maybe someday I could marry some rich billionaire and I could just have a chauffeur drive me around. How could a guy like Bruce Wayne ever resist the limitless beauty which was the stubborn, average, and perpetually irritated 26 year old who doesn't get enough sleep? Ha. 

Since as of yet I don't have a fancy limo (nor the money to pay the absurd cab fare) this would have to do. I went back to editing the boring article on corn. Ugh. There was an Arkham breakout and here I was writing about corn. Oh dear god how could anyone live not knowing the scandal that was a fancy restaurant using frozen veggies in their soup. The audacity! I guess someone had to write about the small things. Besides it’s the fear mongers that practically run this town. Someday I'd turn Gotham Gazette into more than the flaming pile of ignorant trash it was now. If I wasn't killed with the sheer boredom that was this frozen vegetable scandal. Maybe I’ll call it “Isn’t Kinda More Impressive That They Made Frozen Veggies Taste That Good?” Catchy right? A small scuffle pulled me out of my reverie. 

A large man quietly situated himself on the seat opposite from me. He was wrapped in a long and bulky coat, giving the impression of a little kid wearing his dad's clothes. His face was turned away and wrapped in a scarf to combat the frosty air. He was spinning something small and shiny between his hands. He suddenly looked up and met my gaze, and for a moment I looked at his dark, turbulent eyes before I averted my eyes, embarrassed to have been caught staring. 

A whole train and he couldn't sit in one of the empty sections. No, of course he chose the one with me in it. I thought the broken light bulb might deter the masses but of course not. Ugh people. With a quick and hopefully inconspicuous look, I checked to make sure I could still grab the pepper spray and I got back to writing, hyper aware of his quick glances. I had gotten back into a nice rhythm when he practically drawled“Gotham Gazette huh?” I froze. Was he trying to… make conversation? Uhhhggggggghhhhh-fine.  
“Yup” I tapped the logo on my bag and smiled conversationally. “I don't have the logo just because I'm a big fan” His eyes squinted and I hoped he was smiling and not grimacing under his scarf. Even I cringed at that one. Guess I'm not quitting my job to become a comedian anytime soon. Hoping the stupid joke sent him away I looked back at my screen. 

“Writing about the ahhh Arkham breakout?” Are you kidding me? Leave. Me. Alone.  
I smiled anyway, this time sure it was strained, “No I'm still kinda new there so I'm working on the less important pieces.” He smiled (I think), shrugged as if bewildered and, of course, began to speak.  
“Well we've-ah, all gotta do something.” Nice. Even the random stranger had something condescending to say. Maybe he and my mother could get together for coffee sometime.  
“It's not that bad. Everyone has to do smaller stuff before they write the bigger pieces.” Sure I thought the articles I had to write were stupid, but they were mine so there. He snorted, jerk, and raised an eyebrow.  
“I suppose society needs its… little cogs too.”  
“Excuse me?” I’ll reiterate: Jerk.  
“Well if people thought they were better than the little stuff, how would the ahhh,” he pointed at the poster for Wayne Enterprises just to the left of my head, dirty graffiti covering the thing, “Waynes of the world stay on top.” 

Who the hell did this guy think he was saying all these things which I usually thought to myself in the shower? “It's not like I'm just going to lie down and do it forever,” I straightened as I recited the mantra that kept me from pulling out my hair and checking into Arkham, “there's nothing wrong with playing the game a little before you make it to the top.”  
“Do you think people go into their,” he paused as if searching for something, “janitorial career thinking it's more than them just ‘Playing the game’ for a bit” he giggled like a small child and turned away as if expecting me to be done. I was stunned for a moment, he wanted to have an actual, intelligent conversation? Please, I wasn't even warmed up. I closed the lid of my laptop and leaned forward.  
“What do you think is the alternative? Refusing to work your way up using the excuse you won't be a tool in societies machine, only to end up one of the bums living payment to payment, never becoming more than what you feared?”  
His eyes smiled almost chillingly and he leaned forward, the dim lighting making him look almost sinister, the oversized coat looking menacing rather than goofy.  
“You talk as if the lower down jobs are synonymous with gears. As of the rich and powerful aren't part of the societal standard. As if they aren't perhaps the worst of all.” Damn that was actually a good point.  
“Well I can hope that once I get a little more powerful I can break away from the societal structures and be more than that. It's one of the reasons I want to work in news. The media can shape people's opinions and thereby society itself.”  
“It's going to take a lot more than a little uhh newspaper to change human nature. You see most of us are like the carnivorous sheep-uh. All happy and soft, grazing away letting a terrifying Cyclopes raise them for the slaughter. Until something comes along that-uh, messes with the masses, and suddenly they aren't the cute fluffy sheep they pretend to be, in fact, they can eat things alive.”  
I actually laughed. Referencing the Odyssey, nice. That was a weird but surprisingly accurate analogy. Props to train guy for his knowledge of greek mythology.  
“Well then here's to the Odysseuses of the world. The people who take what they want despite the carnivorous sheep and Cyclopes. Even if it means pretending to be a sheep for a while.” I restrained from making a pun about them being nobodies. Proud? 

His smile this time was a lot warmer. His dark eyes glimmered with some joke I didn’t understand.  
“Even if you don't get to cover the breakout do you know about the people that escaped?”  
I shuttered “Yeah, I can't believe they all got out. I would hate to meet any of them…”  
“Who do you think the worst would be?”  
“Huh?”  
“The worst to meet out in a dark street”  
I hesitated, suddenly feeling very exposed and glanced down at the pepper spray “...The Joker”  
“Really, a nice guy like that?” Is eyes hadn’t lost their humor but their warmth was gone.  
I smiled a bit at the joke but I still felt very uncomfortable “he just seems so… aware”  
The man for the first time looked a bit surprised, as if he was expecting something else  
“Aware…?”  
“Like all the other people do what they do because they are just- well just crazy. The Joker just seems to be so aware of what he is doing is wrong but he does it anyway. He has a sense of irony that freaks me out I guess. I feel like with the Riddler or the Mad Hatter there might be a way out if you play into their insanity, answer a riddle or whatever, but with him… I think once he decided what he wants to do, that's it. It's going to happen.”

The man looked at me for a moment, calculating. Before breaking out into a huge grin. In fact the grin went over the edges of the scarf. Shit. He stood up and the scarf slid down revealing the only smile everyone in the city would recognize. What the fuck did I just do? I froze vaguely aware I should reach for the pepper spray or run or something, but I just stood there unable to move as the most terrifying person I had ever heard of just grinned. I was going to die and I couldn't even close my eyes. I can’t believe I am going to die in this outfit. 

“Well this is my stop.” What?  
The doors opened and waltzed out as if he had never even noticed I was there. I waited ten seconds before I turned to check if he was gone. He was, I was alone in the car again with nothing but my laptop and the knowledge that he had been planning on killing me. Not to look a gift horse in the mouth but why didn't he? 

I looked down at my closed laptop and within the minute was already scrapping the corn story for one that could launch my career. I think by leaving me alive he was giving me permission to publish. Maybe that's the only reason he left me alive, or maybe it was just to prove he could. 

No matter what I knew if I ever saw him again I wouldn't be so lucky. He doesn't repeat the same joke twice.


End file.
